


The Pieces of Him He Left Behind

by All_Is_Now_Harmed



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: 4x10, Character Death, Coping, Daniel's death, Emily reacts, F/M, Flashbacks, Grief, Original Character Death(s), Sad, Struggle, aftermath of death, cope, post 4x10, reaction to Daniel's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3738505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_Is_Now_Harmed/pseuds/All_Is_Now_Harmed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The truth was it shouldn't have affected her this badly. She should've grieved for a minute and moved on. They weren't friends, they weren't colleagues, they were mere insignificant acquaintances with slight destructive tendencies." </p><p>Emily doesn't understand the affect Daniel has on her as she struggles to cope after his death. (Post 4x10)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pieces of Him He Left Behind

 

 

**The Pieces of Him He Left Behind**

 

 

She never thought it'd hurt this much. Her training taught her how to successfully coil her feelings around a numbing rod, bottle up her emotions and keep herself grounded. But then again it didn't prepare her for Aiden's death, so why would it for this one?

There was something different about the way she responded to this. A deeming sense of uncertainty and calmness seemed to be instilled in her. It was ever present in the way she walked, talked, thought. It was almost as if everything stood too quiet and too empty, too still.

She doesn't understand why she feels this way. It wasn't supposed to be this hard. It wasn't supposed to hurt this badly.

But then again, there was a lot she didn't understand. Like why he was there that night in the first place. Daniel had moved into the penthouse of that hotel back in Manhattan, so what was he doing in the Hampton's two hours away? She had the suspicion the letter in his hand had something to do with it, but she could never bring herself to read it.

The note had blotches of crimson. The red substance staining her shaky hands as she held it tightly between her fingers and she remembers the night he had told her he wanted out.

 

" _So what do you want?"_

_"Your assurance that when this thing with your dad explodes, none of it lands on me."_

_"And why should I do you any favors?" She frowns in confusion._

_"Because I'm trying to separate myself from my family's sins, and I would think that you of all people would understand what it means to be defined by them." For a quick second she can see herself in the fute of his frustration; in the way he talks about his family. And somehow, she believes him._

_"So keep you out of it, that's all you want?"_

_"That's all I want."_

_"Done." The word comes out quick and simple. "You won't even cross my mind."_

 

It dawned on her quickly; the realization that he was no longer alive. That the opportunity to run into him, see him, hear his voice was no longer an option. She remembers the times she'd wake up in the middle of the night, his arms wrapped protectively around her body in the most comfortable, soothing way, not having the memory of ever feeling so secure. Or the days they'd spend lazily walking the strip of beaches, just talking each other hearts out.

It felt uncanny to realize she'd never see him again.

He was gone. It was that simple. But no matter how many times she repeated the phrase in her head, it never felt real. It never felt final.

There were so many things she wanted to do, to say after everything was over. So many things she wanted to apologize for, especially to him. Sure, they've had their share rough patches, but they had good ones too. One's she didn't want to admit she'd cherish long after he'd gone.

She didn't really think there was any hope of a friendly reconciliation between the two in the end, but she at least aspirated to explain herself and hope he'd somehow understand. 

Emily at least owed him that.

But that was all gone the moment she heard those three shots ring through her ears. And what she planned would take years, happened in a mere moment that nearly flashed before her eyes. It only took two sentences, fourteen words and forty-two letters of " _I want you to know that it wasn't all a lie. Not with you."_ and all was forgiven.

But the memory somehow still burned in the back of her mind.

 

_"_ _Get out of here, Run!"_

_Bang_

_Bang_

_Bang_

_She watched in horror as he fell to the floor._

_"Why didn't you listen to me Daniel?! I told you to run! …Why didn't you run?" She scolded him, her eyes glazing over as she held him in her arms. "You're gonna be okay, Daniel. You're going to be okay, Daniel." She whispers trying to coax him._

_"You're still lying to me." He reveals the smallest smirk she's ever seen._

_"I want you to know that it wasn't all a lie. Not with you." His eyes never leave hers._

_"I know," She can feel his body relax, as his breathing swallows. His eyes begin to droop as he repeats the phrase._

_"I know."_

 

There was something about the way he said those two words. As if he knew the whole time and never ceased to really doubt it.

He didn't need her confirmation in the end; he'd seen it every time she used to look at him, but it was nice to see they were finally on the same page.

She was never an open book to him, hell, who was? But there were certain things, even upon finding out the truth about her identity, he knew she only confined in him for. And somehow, just like that, nothing had really changed.

Until everything changed.

 

_"Remember how we met?" Daniel voiced taking a seat next to her on the swing._

_"How could I forget I spilled a drink all over your jacket." She replied with a smile._

_"Yes, you did." He whispers, chuckling. "I never had that jacket cleaned." He reveals. "Yeah, I uh... I hung it in my closet to remind me that unpredictable moments can change your life if you're ready for them." He paused, taking a good look at her. "I'm ready." He declared without any hesitation. "I'm falling in love with you too."_

_"I'm falling in love with you too."_

 

His voice haunts her, for it was only a few years ago, in the very spot she was sitting now, that he voiced his love for her.

She found that jacket, still stained to its full extent, hidden in the back of his closet in the pool house. It was the only thing that was left behind when she moved into the Grayson Manor.

She didn't want to admit it, but it hurt to see it. Then again that was probably his intention when he left it behind; knowing she'd find it, knowing It'd hurt, knowing it'd only plague as a reminder of her innocence when they first met.

The jacket lay beside her on the swing at the old beach house. She doesn't know what to do with it. It's a symbol of her innocence. But innocence was not a part of her anymore. She burned at it slowly with every plot, every single swing of revenge she took until it vanished. Until it was no longer something she was made of.

She wants to burn it, bury, it, hide it, tear it to pieces. But she can't take her eyes off that stupid stain.

Instead, she hopes. She hopes one day she can turn into the person she was when she was with him. But given her substantial track record, she wonders if she can ever go back.

The note weights heavy in her hands as she brushes the tips of her fingers against the folded creases, feeling the ripeness of the paper unfold at her touch. The opened letter stares back up at her, and she looks at it but doesn't really read it until her eyes have adjusted to the penmanship. She notices letters, sentences, a short paragraph all in his smooth ungodly handwriting.

 

_Dear Dad,_

_My whole life, I've been told I was destined for greatness based solely on the virtue of my name. I was taught sacrifice was for the foolish. Survival was all that mattered. But now I find myself at a crossroad, and I must decide what I believe to be true. There is no such thing as destiny. Legacies must be earned by the choices we make. I now know that we write our own endings, and we can either choose to hide as villains or live as heroes._

_—Daniel_

 

She stares at it for awhile. Her eyes reading and rereading the paragraph until they make a spilt sense in her mind.

And there he was.

The Daniel she knew existed deep down inside. The Daniel she met at that art charity way back when. 

The Daniel she didn't mean to fall in love with.

It's clear it's him written beneath the spaces of words and letters. And although she's heartbroken at his untimely redemption she confines in the closure that he died truly himself.

She doesn't want to grieve. It'll make it too real. So instead she continues to hide her denial behind the black clothing and the memory of him. Then again, wasn't that grieving? Wasn't even the mere thought, the mere memory of him, grieving?

It seemed denial was just the way she worked. 

When she first arrived at the Hampton's she had a clear plan and a red sharpie. She swore to herself she wouldn't let anything distract her, and what once was a plan to gain a closer access into the Grayson's lives turned into quite the diversion.

She had no intention to, but she fell in love with him. She aspired to and encouraged the way he stood up to his family. And found herself wrapped up in the thought of a chance at a good life. A good life with him. And for a blunt moment in the morning, when the bleak realities of the day hadn't yet plagued her mind, the sun just barely peeking through the curtains, she'd wake up next to him, getting lost in the idea--the wonder of a life together. 

Of late-nights filed with the styling's of Otis Redding's voice on vinyl, and early mornings filled with the sound of the endless ocean outside and stifled laughter. 

It wasn't a bad life, the one she envisioned. They were happy.

She was happy.

But the moment proved insignificant the second she climbed out of bed. She knew eventually their relationship would grow to blow up in her face. That one day he'd learn the truth about her. To which she'd then deny the existence of any and all feelings she might've had for him and carry on, playing along like she was just pretending.

She was good at pretending.

When she learned he was going to be a father at the police station the other day it derailed her. Forced her to think about the monster he had turned into the minute he aligned himself with his father.

He had shot her, granted he was drunk and angry, but still, he had somehow gathered the will to shoot her. And with that, eliminated any possibility of her bearing children. It was his gift to the world, he said another drunken night.

 

_"You know I'm starting to realize why we didn't work. We're the same person."_

 

He said that night at the bar. 

 

_The moment she heard that accusation she nearly choked in amusement. "Yeah," He insisted. "we're stubborn as hell. And we use people without giving a damn about who gets hurt in the process." He continues much to her dismay. "That is not who I am." She simply denies. "Oh, but it is." Daniel dictates with a slight smirk. "I see you." He states._

_"I see you._ "

 

They'd been through hell. Both killed, Both done vile, corrupt things for their advantage, but in the end, she finally came to the conclusion he was right. They were no different. They were the same person. 

Both their parents had wronged them, left them, damaged them. Hell, their existence was so aberrant, in another life, they could've been step-siblings.

But none of that mattered anymore. He was buried in the ground. And that was all that remained of him the minute she dragged him into this mess. Into her life.

Tears fell down her face unseeingly. Another thing she wiped away and denied. Because she couldn't possibly be crying over the man who had taken so much away from her.

 

_"Listen I know first hand that you can fake tears, but I know real ones don't come easy."_

 

He had said just nights before his death upon stumbling across her at the old beach house.

The truth was it shouldn't have affected her this badly. She should've grieved for a minute and moved on. They weren't friends, they weren't colleagues, they were mere insignificant acquaintances with slight destructive tendencies.

But It hurt. More than she could ever imagine. More than she thought it could. 

And she had no idea how to make it stop.


End file.
